Loved and Lost
by ChocoTaco
Summary: Willow is in dire need of help. What happens when an old flame comes to the rescue? Another old ally is coming back, but is he really on the Scooby Gang's side? [DISCONTINUED]
1. Default Chapter

**A/N**: Yes, it's me. Choco Taco. The lunatic who brought you "What REALLY Happened," my signature Pirates of the Caribbean Parody. Well, I'm back! After months of absence, I have developed a new love: **Buffy the Vampire slayer.** So here comes my first serious fic in a _very_ long time. It takes place after the end of season six, and it's basically just an alternate season seven. It's rated PG-13 for dark themes, language, violence, and possible snogging. Hehehe. So anyway, please read and review!

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Willow drew a ragged breath, rolling over and letting the blanket slip from her face. The sunlight burning through the blinds greeted her harshly as she let her brain slowly take in her surroundings. She saw once again the dishes of untouched and unwanted food brought in by concerned loved ones and left to rot and go stale on the already cluttered nightstand. Her tangled, matted hair fell across her forehead and brushed uncomfortably on the side of her jaw. She wasn't sure how long she had been in that bed. The days all seemed to mash in a flurry of pain and self-loathing. It was all her fault. Everything. Tara was dead. Warren's blood was on her hands. She knew there was nothing she could do to fix what she had done, and she couldn't bear that. Her whole life had been spent finding an easy way to solve her problems. And now here she was. Alone, heartbroken, and not to mention having a lot of numbness in the lower half of her body. She had been wallowing in self pity in that bad for days, eating nothing, drinking occasionally, and moving as little as possible. She hated herself. She hated the place she had put herself in. She saw now that everything, all the pain over the years, was all because of herself. Oz, Tara, Buffy, Xander, Giles, Dawn… she ended up hurting everyone she loved. And she couldn't stand living with that. 

Willow rolled over onto her other side, facing the door. She guessed it had been about a week since the last time she ate, and in her brief moment of awareness it suddenly it occurred to her that she was starving. Heaving a sigh of defeat, she readied herself to finally get up. She sat up slowly, her back in serious pain, and planted her feet on the floor. Eventually, despite the lack of feeling in her legs, she was able to gradually stand up. She took small, careful steps onto the landing.

She was nearly to the stairs when something silver glinted at her from the carpet and stole her attention. She looked down, and there on the floor was one of Tara's most prized possessions: a silver chain with a matching silver four-leaf clover charm on it for good luck. Willow had given it to her for her last birthday. She could see clearly in her mind, Tara's smiling face as Willow presented it to her, Tara holding it up in admiration… suddenly, Willow felt a huge force hit her as she noticed the blood on the side of the charm and realized that Tara had been wearing it when she died. Willow sat down on the floor, tearing streaming down her face once more. She gently picked up the necklace from its resting place, cradling it in her hands, and pressing it to here heart. She leaned against the banister of the stairs for support, sobbing uncontrollably. This lasted for about twenty minutes, and it only then stopped because she had run out of tears. Setting her mind on actually making it to the kitchen, she brought the charm to her lips and kissed it lightly before putting it around her own neck. She stood up quickly. Much too quickly. She found her vision obstructed by a black fog, threatening to close in on her completely. Her head began to spin, her body weak from lack of nourishment, her legs finally giving way. She let her knees collapse beneath her, and she felt herself falling, tumbling for what seemed like in eternity. The sudden wind was whipping around her, but she couldn't hear it. All she heard was a series of dull thuds as she felt something crash into her face, shoulders, knees, and shins.

And then there was nothing.

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He had heard everything. He didn't know how, but Giles had managed to find him. He realized what he was allowing to happen in his absence, and he was ashamed beyond words. If only he hadn't been so selfish and left, none of this would have happened. He knew what he had to do. He had to help. He had to go back and right his wrongs. So he had taken a red-eye flight as soon as he could to get back to Sunnydale. It was time for his return.

He pulled up in front of Buffy's house and thought he was going to throw up.

He knew he still loved her. He knew he always would. She was his first and only love, and in a way it was like she had been with him all along. But he was terrified of what would happen when he saw her again. Would she still love him? Probably not. Would she be glad to see him? He didn't know. Would she even speak to him? He wasn't sure. But he knew that anything that would happen between the two of them would have to start with him having the nerve to walk through that door. He disembarked from his car and walked nervously down the pathway to the front door. After much mental deliberation, he finally ran the doorbell. Nothing happened.

After about a minute of silence, he knocked. Still nothing. His curiosity overcoming his fear, he place one sweaty hand on the door knob and opened the door.

Before his very eyes was his worst fear on returning. The she was, Willow, the woman he had loved since the moment he first laid eyes on her in that Eskimo suit, lifeless on the stairs. She was twisted and sprawled at the bottom of the staircase, her head resting on the floor while he her feet were three steps up. She was bruised and beaten badly, and there was a bleeding gash above her right eyebrow. He found himself filled with such horror that his mind could hardly process what he was seeing. Only two words managed to break the confusion:

_"Save her."_

He sprinted across the room and knelt by Willow, pulling the rest of her body gently down the steps so that she was lying evenly on the floor. He lifted her head and sat down by her, resting her head in his lap. He pushed her hair off of her face and ripped off his sleeve, pressing it against her gash as a makeshift bandage.

He feared for the worst. She was limp in his arms. Now more than ever he wished he had never left. Seeing what his true love had been reduced to made him hate himself. He put his other hand against her left cheek, gently tracing the contours of her skin that he knew so well. He brushed his thumb across her lips, which he had been longing to taste again for three long, lonely years. In response to his touch on her face, suddenly she stirred. He thought his heart was going to leap out of his chest. Her eyes slowly began to open.

His face gradually came into focus. It took her a while to realize who it was. Masses of half-formed words chased each other through her very tired brain. She was completely drained, and she couldn't think straight. Finally, something clicked slightly behind her eyes. She turned her head slightly as she felt the familiar hand on her face.

"Oz?"

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**A/N**: Well, the first chapter's always a little boring, so give it some time. Please review!


	2. Concerned Boy is Sweet Boy

**A/N**: This chapter was very difficult to write, but I think it came out well. By the way, reviews? Someone? Anyone? Please?

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"Oz?" Willow inquired weakly.

Oz gave her a real smile. Not just a corners-of-the-mouth-twitch-Oz-smile. A full-on, toothy grin. He touched her hair softly. "I'm here, Willow."

Willow had a dazed and confused look in her eyes. She looked up at him helplessly and said in a very childish tone, "I'm broken."

The smile instantly threw itself off of Oz's face. He felt another huge rush of emotion, but this time it was one of complete and utter sorrow. He tilted her head up slightly and pressed his forehead against hers. "I know."

"Fix me," Willow whispered, looking pleadingly into his eyes.

He could tell that she wasn't well. He threw the bloodstained sleeve on the floor and put one arm behind her back, while sliding the other arm under her knees. He gently lifted her up and carried her into the living room, where he set her down on the sofa.

"Stay here," Oz said about to leave for the kitchen in search of some kind of first aid kit.

"_No_!" Willow cried softly. She reached for his hand but moaned in pain when she moved. He instantly fell to his knees beside the sofa, taking her hand in his.

"It's okay," Oz said soothingly. "I'm here now. I just -"

Willow put her finger over his lips.

"Shh. Don't leave me again."

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At the same time, a few blocks away, a certain slayer and her melodramatic little sister were standing in front of a small Mexican restaurant named _El Burro Gordo_. Dawn read the sign aloud.

"_El Burro Gordo_?" she scoffed. "The Fat Donkey?"

"I hear waiters are a bunch of jackasses," Buffy joked. She waited patiently for a response from Dawn. Finally, after a long, awkward silence, she opened the door. "After you."

Five minutes later, they were seated in a tiny booth, and Buffy looked like she was trying hard to resist the allure of the warm tortilla chips in front of her. She pushed the half-empty basket across the table at Dawn.

"Take them," she said. "I've eaten way too many already."

"I'm not hungry," Dawn muttered, glaring at her sister.

"Come on, Dawn," Buffy coaxed, pushing the salsa towards her.

"Why'd you bring me here anyway? You think this is going to make things any better? You think that just shoving some tacos down my throat is going to make me forget about the fact that my life is just one big wasteland of pain and misery? Well, I hate to break it to you, _sis_, but you're going to have to try a little harder than that."

And with that, Dawn threw down her napkin and stormed out of the restaurant. Buffy looked after her helplessly.

"It was just some chips…" Buffy sighed, looking down at the basket in betrayal.

Buffy groaned resignedly and went after her.

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Oz was kneeling by the sofa again, now holding a glass of soda to Willow's lips for her to drink. Every now and then she would cough and sputter in pain from swallowing. Oz knew she needed help but she had to wait until he could call some one. He had cleaned and bandaged the gash on her forehead. He could tell she was weak from starvation, and he had tried to feed her, but her body could simply not accept the food. He was counting on this drink to hold her over until he could get help from Giles.

When Willow had finally drained the cup, he put it down on the table and stood up.

"Don't go!" Willow squealed, alarmed. Suddenly, he felt his heart splitting in two as he noticed a single tear sliding down the side of her face. He sunk to the floor yet again. He wiped away the tear with his thumb, trying to be strong for her.

"Sh… don't cry for me. I don't deserve your tears."

Suddenly, something lit up behind her eyes.

"Oz!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

She put her hand on the side of his face and spoke slowly, "I've been waiting for you."

Oz felt himself melting inside, but his expression remained unchanged. If he had learned anything over the years, it was to never let your face show what you truly feel. Instead, he put his hand over hers and pulled it away from his face. He knew that she didn't realize what she was doing, and he couldn't bear to hear the things she might say and not mean.

"Rest now," she breathed.

And then the light was gone, her eyelids fell and her arm went limp. She was silent and motionless again.

"Willow?" Oz called in horror. "Willow!"

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Buffy had finally managed to catch up with Dawn as she was stalking up the front walk.

"Dawn, listen to me, I didn't-" Buffy begged, trying to reason with her sister.

"No! Don't talk to me," Dawn answered angrily without even looking back at her own flesh and blood.

"Dawnie-"

Abruptly, Dawn whipped all the way around and cast Buffy a look that seared right into her.

"_Don't call me that_," she spat venomously.

Just at that moment, someone kicked open the front door. Dawn spun back around to see Oz carrying a lifeless Willow outside.

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	3. I Hate This Place

**A/N**: Yay! I have a review! Thank you angeleyes! Now, without further ado, I present to you chapter three!

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Both Buffy and Dawn froze dead in their tracks. Dawn's furious expression immediately gave way to that of terror, while Buffy rushed over to them.

"What- how- Oz!" Buffy stammered. "What happened?"

"No time to explain," Oz replied, walking as quickly as he could without hurting Willow. "She needs help. Now. We have to get her to the hospital.

Buffy turned to face the direction Oz was walking and noticed his van parked in the street. It occurred to her to ask herself how she had managed to not notice that, but there were more important issues at hand. She ran past Oz and slid open the back door for him.

"Dawn, you sit in the back with Willow," Oz shouted over his shoulder in Dawn's general direction as he carefully laid Willow down on his backseat. He ran around to the other side of his van, wrenched open the door, threw himself into the driver's seat, and started the engine. Buffy looked around urgently.

"Dawn!" she screamed, looking around for her sister, she turned around and saw that Dawn had sunken to the ground with her face in her hands. "Come on, Dawn! We don't have time! Get in the van!"

Dawn looked up at her with seething hatred, tears of anguish running down her face. She jumped to her feet and stomped over to the van, getting in next to Willow. Buffy slid the door closed behind her, lunged into the passenger's seat, and slammed the door. With that, Oz stomped on the gas, leaving dust in the air and tracks on the street.

Oz felt absolutely terrible. He knew it was his fault. He had gotten too wrapped up in saving Willow and staying by her side that he had waited too long to get her to someone who could really help. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she died. No, he thought, commanding himself not to think about that. He set his jaw and pushed the old van even harder.

In the next seat, Buffy had finally gotten over the initial shock of the whole situation and had entered the confusion phase. Now feeling a desperate need for answers, she turned to Oz and was about to demand an explanation but stopped when she noticed the look in his eyes. It was one of guilt. She could tell he was blaming himself for whatever had happened to Willow. She knew Oz would never doing anything to hurt Willow, and she didn't want to make him feel any worse than he already did by making him relive it, so she kept her mouth shut. They spent the rest of the ride in agonizing silence.

Finally, the reached the hospital, a place Buffy was all-to-familiar with. Buffy, Oz, and Dawn got out of the van and Oz carried Willow into the hospital. He brought her to the front desk.

"We need a doctor right now," Oz informed the receptionist.

"And who is the patient?" she asked, looking over her glasses at him.

Oz gave her an incredulous look. "That would be the unconscious girl I'm holding."

"Sir, I would appreciate it if you would not take that tone with me. Now, I'll need to know what her ailment is, and then you'll have to fill out some paperwork."

Oz looked furious, but he tried to speak calmly to her, "Look. She's dehydrated, starving, delusional, and suffering major head trauma and maybe broken bones. Is that good enough?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to complete these forms first," the receptionist responded patiently, placing a clipboard and a pen on the counter in front of her.

"She needs a doctor NOW!" Oz yelled, in one of his rare moments of losing his temper. Buffy looked at him and noticed his eyes rapidly changing color and that his hands were getting hairier by the second.

"Oz, let me handle this," Buffy said to him quietly. "The last thing we need right now is for you to go all Kujo on us." Oz exhaled slowly and nodded, his eyes returning to their normal color. Buffy stepped in front of him.

"Ah, Miss Summers! Back again, I see," the receptionist said, smiling at her.

"Yeah. Hey, listen, my friend here really needs some help. Do you think you could get us a room now and we could do the paperwork later?" Buffy asked her sweetly.

"Why sure," she answered, pressing a button on the phone to page a doctor.

Oz arched an eyebrow at Buffy, who simply give him a small grin and said in a lower tone, "Just another perk of being the Slayer." Just then, a team came running up with a bed. Oz let Willow down gently and followed as they rolled her away. Buffy took the paperwork from the receptionist and gestured for Dawn to sit down in one of the waiting room chairs. Dawn sat, red-eyed and cross-armed. Buffy sat down next to her and began filling out the forms.

"I hate this place," Dawn complained. "It reminds me of death."

Buffy didn't answer. She didn't feel up to trying to communicate with Dawn at this point. She busied herself with trying to remember Willow's blood type.

¤

Oz followed faithfully into the hospital room. He hated seeing Willow like this. They removed the bandage from her forehead, which was full of blood even though it had only been on for about an hour. A doctor remarked that she would need stitches. He winced for her as they put the IV into her arm. They felt around her abdomen, one of the doctors noting out loud swelling on her right side.

"What happened to her?" one of the doctors asked Oz.

"She fell down the stairs. I found her unconscious when I came in. I don't think she's eaten anything in a while. I revived her and gave her something to drink, but she passed out again." Oz answered as calmly as he could.

"Did she speak to you?"

Oz felt an unexplained lump in his throat when he said that she was delirious.

The doctors continued examining her, Oz keeping a close watch on all of them. Suddenly one of the doctors stepped in front of him and told him that he would have to leave.

"I'm not leaving her," Oz said flatly, side-stepping him.

"Sir-"

"I said, I'm not leaving her."

"If you don't leave now, I'm afraid I'm going to have to call security."

Oz glared at him and left. He reached the waiting room, where he found Buffy and Dawn sitting in silence.

"Well, I guess I owe you guys an explanation," he said, taking a seat next to Buffy.

"Please," Buffy responded.

"Well… I was in Nepal for a month, doing some studying, when Giles showed up. He told me about everything that had happened with Willow. I knew that I had to help her, so I came as soon as I could. When I got to your house, I found her knocked out on the bottom of the stairs. I was able to revive her, but the blows to the head had really gotten to her. She didn't know what she was doing or saying. I cleaned her up a bit and gave her something to drink, but she obviously hadn't eaten in a long time. I tried to feed her, but she threw it back up. Her body just wasn't strong enough to hold up under her injuries, so she passed out again. That's when I knew I had to take her here."

Buffy looked shocked. "How could I have been so… so clueless? How could I have not noticed that she wasn't eating? What's wrong with me?"

Dawn gave her another one of her poisonous looks. "Easy. You never even notice that I exist."

Buffy closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. "Now is not the time, Dawn."

"You never have time for me, do you?" Dawn demanded.

"Please Dawn… don't do this," Buffy pleaded.

"I'll do what I want! You're not mom! My life went down the crapper since I was 14, and you want to know why? It's because of you! Everything, all these pains, they're all from you. You found out about me being the Key. You let mom die. You died. You let Willow get addicted to magic. You let Tara die. And now, you're going to let Willow die!"

Buffy doubled over in tears, Dawn's words killing her slowly with every syllable. Oz's expression was stony. He put his hand on Buffy's back and looked Dawn straight in the face.

"Willow is not going to die," he stated.

Dawn stood up and walked off towards the bathrooms. Buffy gasped for breath.

"It's been like this ever since Mom died. She's convinced it's my fault. I'm starting to believe her," Buffy sobbed.

Oz took her by the shoulders. "Listen to me, Buffy. I don't know what happened with your mom, but I know that you would never hurt the people you love like that. Don't listen to her. Her issues are her issues."

Buffy sniffled. "You're right…. But I guess I'd better go talk to her." She got up and went the direction that Dawn had just fled in. Oz got up, walked over to the pay phone, and dialed Giles's number, thinking to himself that I agreed with Dawn on one thing: he hated this place too.

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	4. Choking on Cheetos

**A/N:** Despite my dismal number of reviews, I shall go on! I have recently been reading Buffy the Cliche Slayer by Steve-0, which is a WONDERFUL parody. The absolute best part is the Woz puppy! Wow. So, Xander's behavior in this chapter is inspired by Fat Angel. Also, forgive me if this chapter sound a little parody-ish. I tried!

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In the small waiting room of the Sunnydale General Hospital sat five friends in cold silence. Dawn had her arms crossed over her chest and was scowling at the opposing wall. Buffy was continuously fidgeting nervously, occasionally casting fearful glances in Dawn's direction. Giles was alternating between short periods of reading a book and long periods of taking off his glasses and massaging his temples. Xander was compulsively eating Cheetos. And Oz was pacing back and forth before the whole group, his expression impossible to read. They had been exactly like this for nearly three hours, except for the fact that Xander had gone through two bags of Skittles and some brown sugar Pop-Tarts. Buffy swore she could see a path carved in the floor by Oz's nonstop pacing. Oz doubted Dawn had moved at all from her pouting position for the last three hours. Dawn was about to kill Giles if he did that damned glasses-cleaning-maneuver one more time. Giles wondered absently about Xander's newfound comfort food dependency. Xander was completely enthralled by his glorious cheese puffs.

Finally, as tension was really beginning to run high, a doctor walked into the waiting room. Oz spun around and walked over to meet him. Xander froze in mid-chew.

"Well, the good news here is that she'll make it," the doctor began. There was a collective sigh of relief from the five of them, and consequently Xander began to choke on his Cheetos. As Buffy promptly started vigorously patting him on the back in an attempt to help, Oz looked at the doctor.

"And… the bad news?"

"Well, she's still very weak, but her body is recovering rapidly. She has received stitches on her forehead, and she has a fractured rib, but fortunately there was no internal damage. Really the only way to heal a fractured rib is through rest, so she will have to stay here to be monitored for a night and when you do bring her home, she must stay at rest for three to six weeks," the doctor answered slowly. Now that Xander had returned to his original color, Buffy stood up.

"Can we go see her?" she asked.

"Yes, but only one at a time" the doctor replied. He gestured for them to follow him as he led the way to Willow's room. After a brief trip of Xander's to retrieve his forgotten Cheetos they walked the hall towards their destination. Giles nodded at Buffy, proceeded inside quietly, as though afraid to wake her. Willow was lying peacefully on the hospital bed and her eyes were barely open. She approached her friend carefully as she opened her eyes a little more and gave them a small smile. Buffy put her hand on Willow's hand, avoiding the IV.

"Hey, Wil," Buffy said softly. "How do you feel?"

"Less than comfortable, you know, with the chest pains and all, but I'm doing okay," Willow responded with surprising awareness.

"Look, I'm really, really sorry about this…" Buffy began.

"No, don't be," Willow told her, trying to sound reassuring. "It's not your fault."

"But it is! If I wouldn't have been so… so self-centered, so blind, none of this would have happened. I hate that life is this way…" she added, looking down at the sheets.

"Buffy, this is my fault. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to even realize there was something wrong with me. And I should have thought about how it would affect you guys if something would have happened to me."

"It's starting to sound like therapy in here," Buffy commenting, sharing a grin with Willow. "Well, there're four more people out there who want to talk to you, so I guess it's time from me to go. Be strong, Wil." And with that, she left the room, sending Giles in after her.

"How was she?" Oz asked Buffy, obviously concerned.

"She seemed fine," Buffy told him. "A little shaken, but not too bad off."

"I just wish I could have done more…" Oz said, trailing off. The gang stood in silence until Giles came out, and Dawn glared at his hands as he furiously cleaned his glasses. She went in next, stomach churning. Willow smiled at Dawn as she entered the room.

"Dawnie…" Willow said lightly, lifting her hand a little. Dawn gave her a rare smile in return and looked for a place on her arm to touch that didn't have a bruise on it or an IV in it. Finally, settling on putting her hand on Willow's shoulder, she spoke.

"I was really worried. You know, life's been so horrible lately, I didn't think I could handle much more. I'm just so glad you're okay…" Dawn had another one of her teary moments and continued. "I don't know what I would have done if something would have happened to you."

Willow was getting misty too, but more out of guilt. She realized that after all the crap she had put poor Dawn through that she still wasn't completely hated. Willow slowly reached up and unhooked Tara's necklace from around her neck. She took Dawn's hand and put it in her palm.

"Tara's necklace…" Dawn said sadly. "You're giving this to me?"

"Take it as a token of my apologies," Willow answered with a slight smile. Dawn reached up and latched it around her neck

"Thank you… so much."

Dawn leaned down and gently hugged Willow, careful not to hurt her. With that, she walked away from the bedside and, discreetly snatching up a Jell-o cup on her way out, she gestured for Xander to go in.

Xander walked over to the bed and sat in the nearby chair. At a temporary loss for words, he nibbled on a cheese puff. He held out the bag.

"Cheeto?" he offered.

"Um, no thanks," Willow declined. She smiled again.

"Wil," Xander said, leaning forward with a more serious tone, "you know that we all love you, right? You know that even though Tara's gone, you'll always have us?"

"I know, Xander. Don't worry. I'll never forget about what I still have."

"Good, 'cause I was thinking during all of this that maybe we weren't telling you that."

"It's okay. Am I still yellow crayon Willow?"

"Yep. Still yellow crayon Willow," Xander laughed. He squeezed her hand and left, and Oz went in. Willow's smile was bright, but her eyes were full of something he just couldn't place.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey," he answered sitting on the end of the bed.

"You're back," Willow stated. "Why?"

"You," he said plainly. Willow looked slightly taken aback by his bluntness. He looked her straight in the eyes. "You needed help. I helped."

Willow gave him a grateful smile. "I'm glad you found me when you did. The doctor said that without the bandage I might have lost too much blood. You saved my life."

Oz returned her smile. "See. I helped." He got up and walked over to the head of the bed. Willow reached up and touched his bare shoulder.

"Your shirt."

"Your bandage."

They smiled at each other again. Just then a nurse poked her head in.

"Sir, visiting hours are over."

"I'm staying here overnight. You have a chair. I'll sleep in it," Oz said firmly. The nurse sighed and left them alone.

"You don't have to do this," Willow reminded him.

"I know."

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Buffy opened the door to her house. It was about 11:00 at night, and she was exhausted. She let Dawn in before herself and was about to head upstairs when she noticed some one very out of place sitting on the sofa.

"Love! Look! I'm better. I changed."

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**A/N:** Fwahh. Bring in the Spikage.


	5. Nothing Left to Live For

**A/N:** Since today I unfortunately suffered much heartbreak in the not-so-wonderful world of guys, this chapter will probably sound more like chapters 1 & 2. I have also learned today that lying on the bathroom floor crying into a rug for ten minutes straight is an excellent method of brainstorming. Well, on that happy note, here's chapter 5!

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Buffy slowly turned around, wondering how many more unpleasant surprises she could handle in one day. She exhaled.

"Spike, what do you want?" she asked him impatiently. He jumped off the sofa, walked over to her, and took her hands.

"I'm real now. I'm what you want. I've got a soul!" Spike answered happily.

Buffy dropped her hands to her sides and took a step back. "Wait… what? You- you- what?!"

"You know. I'm no saint. It hurt, but it's back, and I'm back. I'm not okay. What else can I do?" Spike's voice began to rise, getting panicky. "I'm not like those two! I can't be your knight. I want to. Do you see me? Do you know what I did? I've been here… sitting. A long time. I fought. I was a warrior. But it was just for you. I fixed it. But I'm still not right, am I?" his eyes fell and he scraped his fingernails down his arm. "Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. No good. Not enough." He drew breath sharply as he sunk his fingernails into his own skin, blood running down to his wrist. Buffy stepped forward and grabbed his hand.

"Stop it! I get it, you got your soul back and now you're all with the crazy. But why?"

He reached out and placed his bloody fingertips on her arm, and a little glint of sanity was behind his dilated pupils. "You. I just want to be who you deserve."

Buffy was extremely taken aback. She crossed her arms, not knowing how to handle this. Finally, she took the easy way out. "Go away until this passes. Come back and talk to me when you're sane."

Spike looked hurt. He sighed loudly and shrugged. "What could I ask for? You can't, or you won't, one of the two, or maybe you will, but I'll just have to wait until you can decide which." After saying what he clearly thought was a very clever comeback, he turned and left the house. Buffy relaxed and dropped her jacket on the lamp table, turning to head upstairs. As she reached the first step, avoiding the unsightly spot of blood, she saw Dawn standing at the top of the stairs. She was tense and had a white-knuckled grip on something in her right hand, which she hastily put down. It was a stake. Buffy gave her a small smile as she walked up the stairs.

"I guess you're more like me than I thought."

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Oz opened the door of his van for Willow and bent down to pick her up when she shook her head.

"No, i-it's okay. I can handle it," she told him, gingerly stepping down onto the pavement. Oz knew she wanted to prove that she could take care of herself, so he let her walk, but he put his arm around her back as a brace. She took measured steps and finally reached the door after what seemed like miles. Oz opened the door for her and stepped aside as she went in first. Dawn and Buffy, who had been asleep on the sofa after an apparent all night movie-fest, sat up quickly and turned off the television. Buffy walked over to Willow as Oz closed the front door. She smiled at Willow.

"Welcome home," she said kindly, hooking arms with her best friend and leading her slowly into the living room, where Dawn was preparing her a makeshift bed. Willow grinned slightly and laid herself down on the couch, Oz watching her carefully, making sure she didn't hurt herself. He felt like it was his job to make sure that nothing happened to her. He sat down in the easy chair by the sofa, leaving his keys on the table. Buffy took in his messy appearance. "If you want, you could go upstairs and change while we keep an eye on Willow."

Oz shook his head. "It can wait." Buffy nodded, knowing he couldn't be told otherwise. She left the room, but Dawn lingered a bit.

"Hey, Oz," she said, causing him to shift his eyes from Willow's face to hers. "I just wanted to say… I'm really sorry about the way I was yesterday. I was wrong."

"It's fine," Oz nodded.

Dawn fiddled with her necklace awkwardly. "I'm glad you're back, Oz," Dawn smiled, leaving the room after Buffy. Oz continued looking in the same direction, but not at anything in particular. Everything was out of focus. It was just such a huge release knowing that Willow was home and alive. He breathed deeply. He knew that his job here wasn't nearly finished. He could tell that Willow was hurting more than he had imagined, and he knew he needed someone who could be with her all the time. But nothing pained him more than watching her and knowing that he could never have her again. He had been a moron to leave when he did. He should have known that Willow would move on, she always did. Losing her twice had been the two most agonizing experiences of his life, and as much as he loved her, he was terrified of that happening again. Besides, there was nothing he had to offer her now. His novelty had worn off. Now he was just some unemployed loner who wandered the globe in search of just one more thing that he could use to try to fill up the gaping hole in him that Willow used to occupy. He also knew that she would be much too scared to start anything with anyone, this close to losing Tara.

Oz's pondering stalled and the thought of Tara. He couldn't hate her. He couldn't bring himself to hate someone who brought Willow so much joy. But that didn't mean he didn't hate that she had taken his place. Willow was the only thing he had ever had to give him a reason to look forward to the next day. Tara had taken that away from him. He had nothing left to live for. He put his head on his arms, suddenly realizing his exhaustion. He had been up all night at Willow's bedside, just watching her. Making up for lost time. His eyes closed in spite of himself. He felt himself drifting off…

To his left there was a small rustling. He opened his eyes heavily. Willow was stirring. He groaned and stretched, then looked at the clock. It was 3:30. He had been asleep for more than four hours. He turned over and suddenly, he heard a small series of whimpers and sniffles. He got up quickly and walked over to Willow, who was weeping softly. He sat down on the floor, now at eye level with her. He put a hand behind her ear. She sniffed in response. He smiled slightly, and she sniffed again. Knowing that there was really nothing he could offer her at this point other than a comforting touch, he stood up and sat down on the sofa next to her, and she sat up. He put a hand on her leg. She began to cry a bit more loudly, covering her face with her hand. Oz had a feeling that he had had probably about twice total in his whole life: he felt like if he didn't say something soon he would burst. He looked up at Willow.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "For leaving you."

Willow looked up at him, and her expression flew through about seven different emotions before she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest and sobbing freely into his t-shirt. Oz gasped, mostly because she had knocked the wind out of him, but also because he had been craving this kind of closeness with her ever since he last laid eyes on her. He put his arms around her, careful not to hurt her or make her feel uncomfortable about her intentions, even thought he wasn't even sure what his intentions were at this point. He looked down and kissed her on the top of the head. She sniffed.

¤

**A/N:** So yes, pleae do review! It shall be much appreciated. D Oh, by the way, Gustavo says hi. That's my stuffed pink flamingo.


	6. The Flame of Ordezki

**A/N:** Sorry I haven't updated in a few days! Everything's been really crazy lately. But I very much appreciate all my loyal reviewers have been praising my fic. I am truly flattered, and not to mention shocked. So anyway, here's chapter six!

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Buffy opened her eyes slightly, and above her she saw looming a flawless figure, golden hair paired with fair skin and perfect blue eyes. _An angel_, she thought to herself in her state of sub-consciousness. She smiled at him, and the angel beamed back down at her, placing a hand on her hip and leaning forward to her ear.

"Morning, love," he whispered, in a voice that she knew well.

"_Spike_!" she jolted up in the bed, throwing him off of her body. He sprung back in surprise, banging into the wall and knocking a picture frame down, which broke upon impact with the floor. Buffy jumped out of bed, looking furious and confused.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Spike looked down in embarrassment. "Just… I just wanted to see you…"

"Great. Still loony," she concluded, moving toward him a little bit. "I thought I told you to stay away until you found your marbles."

"I can't," Spike sighed. "You too damn strong, but I can't make myself think it's your fault. It must be me, right? I'm the one who's the problem, right? I still need more, right? Right?" He was starting to look desperate. Buffy sighed, took him by the arm, and led him not-so-gently down the stairs, past Willow sleeping on the sofa and Oz passed out in the chair, and out the front door, where Spike promptly began to sizzle.

"Oh, _shit_!" Buffy cursed, jerking him inside as he screamed in pain. She had completely forgotten what time of day it was. "Damn it, what now?" she sighed again, and turned to face him. He was looking frightened and confused. "Look. Go upstairs and stay in the bathroom. Do not leave for an-"

Spike cut her off. "But, love, I-"

"No! If you really love me, you'll stay out of the way until dark."

Spike pouted slightly and went up to the bathroom. Buffy rubbed her head and climbed the stairs also, but turning and walking into her room. She saw the picture that Spike had knocked onto the floor and picked it up. Brushing aside the shattered glass, she saw the image Angel, his arms around Buffy. She couldn't quite recall when it had been taken, or who had managed to get a picture of Angel in the first place. She placed it on the bedside table with no emotion, and left the room behind her. As she passed the bathroom, she grabbed the knob and easily ripped it off the door, so that Spike couldn't escape.

¤

Oz watched Willow silently. She was asleep again, after her bout of sorrow. She seemed so much more peaceful now. He loved these moments so much, where he could just take in all the wonder of the woman that he loved. Unrequited love, yes, but love nonetheless. She was looking considerably better today, but she simply hadn't moved. By tomorrow, he thought she would be able to walk herself upstairs and have something to eat. He wondered why it hurt him so much that she would be independent once again soon. He guessed it was because it would instill that same old feeling in him that Willow didn't need him. And then it would end up just like every time: he would give up all he had for her, loving her for all that she was, and she would find something better. Something sweeter. So he knew that it could never be. But he could dream.

And dream he did. It was all he ever thought about, every free moment. She was always there, like this residual craving for something he couldn't reach. But every breath he took was full of her, and every song he wrote had her voice in the chords. He couldn't shake his love for her, and, quite frankly, he didn't want to. She was his sweetest addiction. He knew that no matter how many times she ripped his heart out, it would still be beating for her. And that's why he couldn't leave.

Willow woke and looked up at him. He gave her a smile, not with his mouth but with his eyes. She turned over onto her side so that she was facing him.

"Thanks," Willow said, "for yesterday."

Oz shrugged and one of the corners of his mouth twitched. "Helping."

¤

Meanwhile, (**A/N:** Crap, I swore I'd never use that word in a fanfic again!!! Oh well….) In a dark room miles and miles away, two people – both with dark hair and dark clothes - were sitting around a small table, eyes closed, with something burning in the middle of it. The was an open spell book in front of the man, and jars and bags full of ingredients before the woman

The woman opened her eyes and looked up. "Did the spell work?"

"There it is," a man said, sounding pleased with his creation, "the Flame of Ordezki. Keeps the sun up until the traveler reaches his or her destination." This statement caused the woman to look at the man in confusion.

"How is that gonna work? I mean- you're sort of a vampire…" The man held up a ring, popularly known as the gem of Amara. The woman raised her eyebrows. "Okay, so now you're Superman, how's the sun staying up going to help us?"

The man rolled his eyes, growing impatient. "I told you. I want to make sure he's in that house when we get there. Now come on, let's go."

¤

Giles, Xander, Anya, Oz, Willow, and Buffy were all gathered in the living room. Dawn was in her room, Willow was lying down, Buffy was sitting on the sofa at her feet, Oz was sitting on the floor by Willow's head, Anya and Xander were sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table, and Giles was sitting on the chair looking very grandfather-ly. Giles looked at Buffy in disbelief.

"He got his-his soul back? But how?" he asked, baffled.

"I don't know," Buffy answered. "He just showed up night before last and was all, 'I'm crazy and I have a soul! Love me!'" she imitated in such a terrible British accent that Giles looked offended. "Less than effective."

"Well, what do we do with him now? We can't just have crazy guy running around like a… crazy guy," Xander finished lamely. Just then, a huge crash and the sound of shattering porcelain resounded from the upstairs bathroom. Buffy winced.

"Right now he's locked in the bathroom. I tried to kick him out this morning, but it was, you know, morning," Buffy replied.

"So?" Xander said. "It's not like it matters if he lives or dies."

Buffy gave him the slightest little glare before saying, "He doesn't know what he's doing right now. It's not like he provoked me. He just loves me, is all. I can't kill him for that."

Xander looked at her like she was the crazy one. "Buff, he tried to _rape_ you!"

At that, Buffy slammed her open palm on the armrest of the couch. "I do **_not_** want to talk about that, Xander!" she said, her voice trembling with whatever the hell emotion she was feeling right now. Xander quickly shut his mouth, uneager to experience the wrath of the Slayer. Giles hastily changed the subject.

"Well, I think we need to find somewhere else to keep him," Giles said. Almost as a visual aid, a giant _thud_ was heard from above and a chunk of plaster fell from the ceiling and landed on the coffee table between Xander and Anya. All eyes turned to Buffy.

"What? Like I know where to put him? Ask Giles. He's the smart one," Buffy stated. Willow cleared her throat loudly and Buffy added, "Oh, and Willow too. Smart."

Giles sighed. "I don't think we're going to find any other safe place where he can be monitored other than one of our houses."

"Not it," Xander said, quickly raising his hand.

"It doesn't matter anyway. We can't do anything until the sun goes down," Buffy told them. "Wait… what time is it?" They all looked up at the clock, which read 8:04 P.M. "What the hell?"

Giles looked confused, got up, and parted the blinds to look out the window. The sun was still high in the sky. "Erm… Buffy, are you certain that clock has the correct time?"

"I think so…" she answered. "Hang on."

She fished the remote control out from under the couch cushion and turned on the television. She put it on the local news station. The clock on the bottom of the screen said 8:06 P.M.

"…_remaining a mystery,"_ the newscaster was saying. _"This unexplained solar event seems to be a worldwide phenomenon. Let's here from a professional. Dr. Boyens? What is your take on this?"_

The camera cut to a squat, balding man in a white lab coat, with a tag above his pocket that read "P.G. BOYENS."

"_This event taking place is simply scientifically impossible!" Dr. Boyens remarked. "Every country across the entire planet is experiencing nonstop daytime, which cannot happen because the Earth is round and is always rotating. The only way I can think to fathom this one is by some sort of supernatural force. But, if you'll take a look at these charts-"_

Buffy had turned off the T.V. They were all staring dumbstruck out the window, expect for Giles who had walked back over to his chair.

"I don't understand… how can this be?" Giles wondered out loud, cleaning his glasses. "What kind of creature or spell could be that powerful?"

"Oh you'd be surprised," Anya answered him. "I've seen some of my friends do some pretty terrible things," she smirked. Xander looked deeply disturbed.

"We'll have to do some research," Giles said, ignoring Anya's morbid sense of humor. "I suppose we should all go to my place then…"

"Spike?" Buffy interrupted. "What about him? He can't leave the house. Vampire, remember?" Buffy reminded him, illustrating by wiggling her fingers menacingly in the front of her teeth to represent fangs. Giles looked up at her and sighed.

"Well, then I suppose we'll have to research in shifts. Two of us can go to my house while the remaining four stay here and keep an eye on Spike."

Xander quickly jumped up. "I'll go!" he exclaimed, because babysitting Spike didn't sound too enticing to him.

"All right, bring Anya with you. She's powerful," Giles told him. Anya smiled proudly and left with Xander.

¤

**A/N:** I'm not sure why I cut off where I did. Probably because I wanted to save some for the next chapter and so that it seems like things are going a little more slowly. Well, be expecting chapter seven some time this weekend!


	7. Crazy Women

**A/N:** Damn it! I swore to myself I'd never go this long with out updating. I sincerely apologize to all of my beautiful readers. Rest assured, it won't happen again. Lest we forget I am but a wee little eighth grader, therefore I have just finished midterms. Blehh. But now I'm done with the studying and such, and plus it's the Christmas holidays (WOOT!) so I shall be able to update as fast as possible for the next two weeks, which means I'll probably finish (there are going to be 22 chapters). So yes, I'm excited! Thank you all so much for reading my brainchild, it is very much appreciated. D

¤

Buffy felt her mouth drop open.

"_What the hell did you DO_?!"

Spike looked up at her from the floor, looking frightened. What was left of the bathroom was strewn about him. Chunks of porcelain were scattered near the corner the toilet used to occupy, with water erupting from the pipe that jutted from the wreckage. The mirror was completely destroyed, glass shards covering the counter beneath it. There was a gaping hole in the wall above the bathtub, and when Spike clambered to his feet Buffy could see that the bottom of his black combat boots were laced with tell-tale plaster. She walked cautiously through the doorway, side-stepping around the door that was dangling from its uppermost hinge. Spike cast his eyes downward in guilt.

"I couldn't find the way out," he told her. Buffy felt her anger wavering a bit, but she shook it off.

"So you destroy the entire bathroom?! Brilliant," she seethed. Spike looked ashamed. Buffy sighed and grabbed him by the sleeve of his black T-shirt and herded him back downstairs. Willow was sitting up on the sofa watching television, and Oz was leaning against the opposite armrest. Buffy shoved Spike down into the easy chair. She put a hand on either side of him and leaned forward, leaving mere inches between their faces. "You lay a finger on anyone in this house and I will not hesitate to shove you out that door and watch you fry," she warned. "Got that, Bacon Boy?"

Spike nodded slowly. Buffy turned around and addressed Willow and Oz.

"Keep an eye on him, guys," she said before leaving to go upstairs and survey Ground Zero. Willow looked uneasy.

"Uh… Giles?" she called. The man poked his head through the kitchen doorway, holding an overstuffed and half-eaten sandwich. "Spike's all soulful. Wanna see?"

"Oh reewee?" Giles inquired through a mouth full of sandwich, entering the room warily. "Uh… an ih ee dill iddane?"

Willow and Oz looked at each other in confusion.

"What did he say?" Willow asked.

"Not sure… sounded like something about kiwi and Illinois," Oz answered, turning his head slightly in thought.

Giles swallowed. "I said, is he still insane?"

They all looked over at Spike, who seemed to have just discovered a patch of sunlight coming through the window. He grinned and held his arm out into the light, which promptly began to sizzle loudly.

"Hey, lookit!" Spike chuckled, poking his blistering arm. "I _bubble_!"

Willow and Oz looked back up and Giles and, in unison, nodded solemnly.

¤

On a greyhound bus somewhere south of Los Angeles sat the dark haired couple, each staring uninterestedly off in different directions. The dark woman looked up at her companion. He was looking his usual broody self, which she had always found strangely attractive. She loved looking at him. Maybe she spent too much time doing it, but what do you expect? It just felt so damn good.

At this point he looked down and caught her staring at him. He gave her one of his rare smiles, which she returned.

"Well, this sure is the way to travel, huh?" she joked sarcastically. "I gotta say, I expected something better from the infamous Angelus."

The man gave her a silencing look.

"Oh, right, sorry…" she apologized quickly. Angel shrugged to indicate it was okay.

"It shouldn't take too much longer," he told her. She nodded. He bent down and kissed her on the lips. "Now go to sleep, Faith. You'll need your energy."

¤

Xander pulled a book off of Giles' bookshelf.

"_Modern Magical Nip-Tuck_," Xander read aloud. "Sounds interesting." He opened it up to a random page and his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Well, these sure are some, uh, _interesting_ pictures," he stammered, turning the book on its side. Two more pages unfolded themselves from the one he was looking at. His eyes went even wider. "Very… _interesting_."

Anya walked over and snatched up the book. "Let me look." She looked at the picture and nearly dropped the book in shock. "Oh God! Okay, we'll just put this one back then…" she folded up the centerfold with a look of disgust and snapped the book shut before putting it back in its proper place on the shelf. She picked out an enormous book titled "_Charms of Weather and Ambiance_" and put it in his hands, causing Xander to nearly tip over from the weight of the book. She sat back down in one of the rolling chairs at the desk. Xander hauled his book over to the desk and sat down in the matching rolling chair next to her.

All was silent for a few minutes as the researched until Anya abruptly looked up and said, "Can I kiss you?"

Xander almost fell out of his chair. "What?!"

"You know, it's kind of like in those cheesy romance stories when the people are sitting in silence in then all of the sudden one of them looks up and gives the other one an unexpected kiss," Anya explained. "It's spontaneous and romantic and I thought you would enjoy it. So can I kiss you?"

Xander looked like a deer in headlights. "D-eh-uh-mm-I… Well, you see, Anya, the thing is… now you're all demon-like and vengeful… with the… dismemberment and such. And, well it's kind of a turn-off."

Anya looked hurt. "So you're saying we can't get back together because I'm a vengeance demon again?"

"Yes, mainly, but-"

Before Xander could finish, Anya had got up and left the house. Xander shrugged and muttered something about "crazy women" before resuming his research.

¤

**A/N:** Just a fun little chapter. Not very meaty, but the best is soon too come! I hope you all caught on the the Angel/Faith up there, I wasn't sure if I was clear enough on that...


	8. Just Like the Good Old Days

A/N: Yay! Another chapter! This one was especially fun to write, so I hope it's fun to read as well!

¤

Oz watched Willow, something he seemed to be doing quite often lately. She had finally been well enough to move around, and she was bustling about the kitchen, having insisted on fixing herself lunch. He half-smiled at her. He was so glad she was better. He knew that she would probably move on to some one other than him, and as much as it pained him to think of her loving some one that wasn't him, he knew it would make her happy. And that was all he really wanted… right? At this point, he really didn't know what he wanted.

He got up and went into the kitchen, where Willow was preparing herself quite a feast including waffles, bagels and cream cheese, pudding, a bowl of strawberry Jell-O, a box of crackers, and a can of cheese whiz. He smiled.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Very," Willow answered, cheerfully gathering spoons, forks, and plates. "Want some?"

Oz nodded in acceptance and Willow smiled at him. He went around the counter to help her. She held the Jell-O in one hand while standing on her tip-toes, stretching and twisting to reach for another plate. Suddenly she winced and jumped back, holding the side with the fractured rib. He rushed over to her, concerned.

"Why don't you go sit down? I'll finish," Oz suggested, attempting to take the bowl of Jell-O.

"No!" Willow said stubbornly, jerking the bowl back. It flew out of her grasp and smashed onto the floor, shattering and sending Jell-O flying everywhere, including their legs. Willow looked up at him, her mouth open. "Oh, now you've done it!" she yelled. And before Oz had a chance to respond, Willow had started laughing, grabbing the cheese whiz, waving it threateningly. "Ooh, what now?!"

Oz faked fear, as Willow began a merciless attack on him with cheese whiz. He dodged a jet of the orange slime and lunged at the counter, laughing as he grabbed the bowl of thick chocolate pudding. He turned around just in time to get a face full of cheese whiz. In retaliation, he dunked his hand into the pudding and flung a handful at her, splattering the front of her shirt. She squealed and ducked behind the other side of the counter, spraying him with the cheese all the way.

"Oh no you don't!" Oz shouted, feeling like it was the good old days. He rounded the counter and was about to launch another pudding attack when Willow ambushed him with a stick of butter from the waffles, mashing it into his hair. Both of them now laughing hysterically, he turned the bowl of pudding over above her head and she gasped.

"Ooh, it's _coooooold_!" she screamed. She grabbed the cream cheese and smeared a handful down each side of his face. Oz darted to the other side of the kitchen, opened the pantry, and grabbed a bag of mini-marshmallows. He ripped it open and started tossing fistfuls at her, which stuck to the pudding and made her look like a giant s'more. They laughed even harder. Willow picked up a bottle of ketchup and was just squirting Oz with it when Giles walked it.

"What are you two do-?" Giles was cut off when Willow spun around, accidentally dousing him in ketchup. She dropped the bottle and Oz laid down the bag of marshmallows. Both of them tried and failed to look innocent while covered in assorted condiments and foodstuffs as Giles slowly took of his glasses. He wiped the ketchup off of them on the tail of his shirt, looking shocked. "Buffy will have you hide for this one, she will," Giles told them, finally replacing his glasses and looking over the now filthy room. Willow and Oz exchanged guilty glances. Giles merely laughed and left the room.

¤

Willow and Oz collapsed on the couch, after having cleaned the entire kitchen from top to bottom. Oz grinned inwardly, loving that he and Willow still had the great chemistry they had always had. If only she loved him back…

Willow wondered exactly what her emotions toward Oz were. He had saved her life, this time not being the first. She knew that she still cared for him very much, but she didn't know how much. She felt like if she let herself fall back into love with Oz, she would somehow be betraying Tara. She closed her eyes and sighed. The thought of Tara, which had once brought her so my joy, now brought her so much pain. She felt like there was this huge void inside of her, but she couldn't quite figure out how to fill it.

What had happened today with Oz had given her a little glimpse of what used to be. And she had loved it. But was that really what she was looking for?

Willow's thoughts were interrupted when Xander came through the door.

"I got nothing," Xander informed them before they could ask.

"Where's Anya?" Willow asked.

"I don't really know. I think she went on some kind of crazy bitchy vengeance trip," Xander replied.

"Hm. That's always fun," Oz remarked, groaning as he got to his feet. "Guess we're up." He extending a hand and helped Willow up from the sofa.

¤

Buffy hung up the phone and put her head in her hands. She didn't know where she was going to find the money to repair the bathroom. _Damn it, Spike!_ she thought. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to be mad at him for long, but she refused to let herself accept that it was because she really did care about him.

"Any luck?" Giles asked, entering Buffy's bedroom.

"Sort of," Buffy responded, looking up at him. "I know how much I need to pay. Now it's just a matter of deciding which bank to rob!" she said with mock cheeriness.

"I'll fix it," said a voice from around the corner. They both looked up as Spike entered the room. "Guess who's back."

Buffy found herself oddly relieved that Spike was safe and sane. She gave herself a mental slap and crossed the room to where he stood. He smirked at her, and she glared in response.

"_You!_" she yelled.

"Me," Spike answered coolly.

"_You_ destroyed my bathroom!" Buffy shrieked, her voice rising in rage.

"_I_ was out of my mind," he answered in a tone of antagonizing calm.

"Yes, I believe I'll let you two handle this one," Giles said, quickly excusing himself.

"You'd better hope being a smartass pays well, because I'm not paying to fix that bathroom," she screamed, pointing at him.

"I said I'd fix it, pet," he reminded her. She looked a bit flustered.

"Right, well… you'd better!" she said lamely, storming out of the room. Spike grinned after her.

"Just like the good old days…" he murmured to himself.

¤

**A/N:** I wuff woz, and spuffy is spiffy!


	9. Fluff 'n' Stuff

**A/N:** I apologize for the shortness! There's really nothing to this chapter other than underlying Spuffy and Woz. So, enjoy the fluff-n-stuff, because it is a prelude to the big moment, coming next chapter!!!!! Fwahh!

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Buffy looked Spike up and down, taking in his appearance. He was standing with his head cocked, examining his handy work. His normally slicked hair was tousled a bit and there were some curls in it. The long sleeves of his shirt were pushed up to his elbows, andhe had a wrench in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. His black combat boots were splattered with paint and plaster. _Shit…_ Buffy thought. _Why does he have to be so damn attractive?_ Suddenly it occurred vaguely to her that Spike was calling her name, restoring her senses.

"…Buffy? Buff-y?" Spike was watching at her expectantly, looking slightly amused. "You know, I wanted your opinion on the bathroom, not my ass, but I'll take either one," he said slyly, catching her staring. She turned crimson.

"Oh, no, I wasn't- I was just- um…" Buffy stammered. She took a quick look around the bathroom. Sure, he had done an excellent job. Far better than Xander: the Glorified Brick Layer could have done. The wall was patched seamlessly, the mirror had been replaced, and he had done quite a nice job installing that new toilet. However, all his construction in the bathroom seemed to pale in comparison to the builder himself. And judging by the smirk on his face, Spike could tell what she was thinking. "Wow… it looks… great!"

"What, my ass or the bathroom?"

"Both," Buffy blurted, catching herself just a little too late. "I mean- uh- the bathroom!" Spike chuckled at how flustered he had made her. He grinned and laid his tools down on the counter, walking over to her. She swallowed hard, trying to resist from turning any redder. He went right up to her. Close. A little _too_ close. He put his face right next to hers, and when he spoke she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips.

"I'll be going, then," Spike said softly, his voice sounding warm and thick. He couldn't help but grin at how wide Buffy's eyes had gotten. He turned and grabbed a blanket from the hallway, trotted down the stairs, threw the blanket over his head, and ran outside. He slammed the door, leaving Buffy staring after him.

¤

Willow and Oz were looking fruitlessly through volumes of magical texts, oblivious to the fact that Spike had already left the house and the whole "researching in shifts" thing really wasn't necessary. Willow pushed aside a copy of _Demons of Light and Dark_ and sighed. Oz looked up from _Magic of the Seasons _at her.

"Nothing?" he asked as Willow got up and walked across the room to the book shelf.

"Not a thing. And being around all these spell books is making me kinda tense," Willow commented. "Wanna take a break?"

Oz nodded and closed his book, following Willow into the kitchen for snacks.

"You know what? I don't think the kitchen is the best place for us to be together," Oz said, and he and Willow sniggered. Willow picked out some promising strawberries and a can of whipped cream from the refrigerator. They sat down at Giles' sofa. Oz took the top off of the whipped cream and squirted a huge dollop directly into his mouth. Willow looked at him funny.

"Eew…" she cringed. "That seems… unsanitary."

"Are you kidding me?" Oz said after swallowing. "You haven't lived until you've eaten whipped cream out of the can."

"I don't think so," Willow declined.

"Oh come on," he coaxed, holding out the can. She finally took it from him.

"Darn peer pressure," Willow joked. "It's a good thing you don't do drugs." Willow tilted her head back and squirted the fluffy white substance into her open mouth. "Mmm! This is so _good_!" she squealed. She squirted more into her mouth while Oz laughed.

"Told you," he stated. She swallowed and gave him a very poor attempt at a glare before they both burst into laughter. Oz noticed a bit of whipped cream on her cheek, and he reached over to wipe it off. Savoring the moment, he remembered how much he had always loved the feel of her soft skin under his rough, guitar-worn hands. He looked at her and their eyes locked. The emotion behind her expression was impossible to read. Suddenly Oz realized that his fingers were lingering much longer than necessary on her face. He quickly withdrew his hand, looking casually around the room. Spotting Giles' guitar and seeing it as quick and easy way to end the awkward silence, he rose and picked it up. He removed it gingerly from its case, sat back down on the sofa, and began strumming it softly. He didn't notice that Willow was still staring at him, transfixed.

¤


	10. With a Flick of the Switch

**A/N:** Happy Christmakkah everyone! Enjoy the kissage!

**¤**

Oz sat wordlessly playing Giles' guitar and waiting for the tension of the previous moment to dull. It occurred vaguely to him that Willow was still staring at him, but he didn't dare look her in the eyes. God only knew where things would go from there.

Willow's mind was still slowly processing what had just happened. Why had Oz looked at her that way… touched her that way? Finding herself unable to answer her own question, she settled on contemplating what she already knew: that when she was with him – as cliché as it may sound – all her pain just seemed to melt away. Did she really want that? Did she really want some one who would make her forget her past, or did she want to hold on? Again, she was at a loss for answers.

Oz couldn't take the silence any more. Finally, he looked up and began speaking. "I was thinking about calling Devon some time soon, since it looks like I'm going to be here for a while. Maybe we could do the Dingoes reunion tour…" he was relieved to see that Willow was smiling and nodding in return. "You know, you're even more beautiful than I remembered," Oz said, stating bluntly what he was thinking. He quickly moved on as if he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. "So anyway, if all the guys are still around, we could probably start up again. That is, if Devon hasn't already drunk himself into oblivion."

Willow laughed softly, her mind still playing over what he had just said… "_You know, you're even more beautiful than I remembered…_"

**¤**

Buffy sat on the grass in the cemetery, propped up against a grave. She closed her eyes and wondered exactly how she had ended up in this same old graveyard. She knew it all too well. It was where she had shared her first kiss with Spike, not to mention her last. In spite of herself, she found her mind wandering over to her former lover's crypt. She knew that she had come here looking for him, but she was afraid of was she might find. She opened her eyes and stood up, glaring at the sun's now ever-present gleam. She walked resolutely over to Spike's crypt and burst through the door.

She found herself being greeted by blaring rock music. She restrained her laughter as her vision found Spike, bounding around his small living room area, head-banging. She walked a little farther into the dank underground home, now able to make out the lyrics that Spike was screaming along to.

"…_With a flick of the switch she can satisfy! She gonna blow you all sky high! Flash the eye! Electrify! A power force you should feel! She devil! She evil! She got you screaming on a lightnin' mach_- SLAYER!" Spike had whirled around and seen Buffy watching him. He stopped singing and promptly tripped over his television, tumbling onto the small table which smashed under his weight and falling to the hard ground in a heap with the TV landing on top of him. "Bloody hell woman, don't you knock?!" he yelled over the continuing rock music.

"Oh please. I'm the Slayer. I never knock," she answered smugly, because for once _she_ wasn't the one that was humiliated. Spike disentangled himself from the wreckage and got to his boot-clad feet.

"What'd you come here for anyway?" Spike said, sauntering over to her and attempting to regain his usually smooth composure. "Can't stay away from me, can you, Slayer?"

She backed away a couple of paces, quickly shifting gears from laughter to seriousness. "I just… wanted to know… how."

"How what?" he ventured.

"How did you get it back? Your soul, I mean."

"Is that it, then?" he asked, stopping. "Well, I endured numerous painful trials and nearly died. I think that about sums it up, don't you?"

"But… why?"

"Jesus, Buffy, I thought I'd told you enough times already, but apparently not," he said, walking towards her again. This time he was pleased to see that she didn't try to move away from him. She merely looked up at him with mingled innocence, curiosity, and expectancy. "You know damn well why."

"Just say it to me. I need to hear it, not just… know it," Buffy said, peering pleading up into his blue eyes. She inwardly marveled at how much things had changed. She was practically begging him to say those three words that she wouldn't even allow him to get out a couple of years ago.

Spike knew what she needed from him. He placed a hand on the side of her face, his expression softening. "I love you, and I always will."

Looking back, Buffy wondered exactly what came over her, but before she knew what she was doing, she had thrown her arms around Spike's neck and proceeded to snog the unlife out of him.

**¤**

Willow and Oz were back to researching in silence, Giles' guitar safely tucked away in its case again. Oz shut the book he was reading and took a swig from his can of Mountain Dew before getting up to return the book to its place on the shelf. Willow looked up at him.

"Okay, usually I'm all about the books, but this is getting really boring…" she sighed, laying her head down on the open book on the desk below. "And this stupid rolling chair is giving me butt cramps."

Oz nodded in agreement, picked out a new book, and sat back down. He glanced over at Willow, who was adjusting herself uncomfortably in her chair. He sniggered.

"Oh you think it's funny?" she said with mock anger. "Well, is _this_-" she lunged forward and began furiously tickling his sides, "-funny?!"

"GAHH!" Oz yelled, flailing his arms around at Willow, who was laughing maniacally. One of his best kept secrets (aside from the whole werewolf thing) was that he was insanely ticklish. She continued to relentless tickle him, laughing as he squirmed around in his chair, knocking the can of Mountain Dew and his book off of the table in his retaliation efforts. As much as he despised being tickled, he loved Willows touch. He grabbed her by the shoulders in an attempt to make her stop. And it worked. Except now they were left with Willow's hands on Oz's waist and Oz's arms on Willow's shoulders. There was a long moment of silence and tension between the two, each watching the other, breathlessly anticipating the next move. Finally, Oz leaned in and planted his lips directly onto Willow's.

Willow eyes remained open, still taking in what had just happened. Willow the Wicca Lesbian was being kissed by Oz the Stoic Werewolf. Holy shit. Suddenly, she repelled herself from him with such force that the rolling chairs they were sitting in went speeding off in different directions. Oz ricocheted off of the wall, while Willow crashed into the bookshelf. She covered her mouth with her hand. He gave her a terrified look before getting out of his chair and leaving the house. She could faintly here his van peeling out as he sped off down the street.

_He kissed me. Oz. He kissed me. Me. And Oz. Kissing. Like we used to do. Back when I loved him. But wait, I still love him. _

A book fell off of the bookshelf and hit Willow in the head, knocking her out of her stupor.

"What the hell am I still doing here?!?!!?"

**¤**

**A/N:** Yes, yes, I know some of it was cheesy. Please forgive me!


	11. Last Train Home

**A/N:** Wee! 19 reviews! Okay, so most of them were from my hyperactive friend Karli, but that's okay! It's still 10 more than before! So anyway, this chapter has a lot more action than the last few. Enjoy!

¤

Oz pushed the gas pedal harder. Speed limit be damned. He couldn't believe the enormous mistake that he had just made. What had he been thinking? That with just one little kiss he could turn his lesbian ex-girlfriend straight again? Well that obviously wasn't going to happen. He had blown his chances of being close to Willow by loving her too damn much.

_Why can't I shake this? Why does everything I do have to be controlled by this love for a girl I can never have again? _

He drove faster, knowing exactly where to go. He had to get on a train. He had to leave this God-forsaken town.

¤

Xander slumped on his sofa before the television carelessly flipping through station after station. Giles and Dawn were at Buffy's house, Willow and Oz were researching at Giles' house, Anya was long gone, Buffy was 'patrolling', and Spike was who-knows-where. So here he was, in his apartment, with nothing to do and no one to keep him company.

Ah, the life of a bachelor.

Xander instantly sat up at a knock on the door. Resisting the urge to sprint to the door, fling it open, and hug whoever his visitor happened to be within an inch of his or her life (he felt it might appear a wee bit too desperate), he nonchalantly called, "Come in."

He heard the door open, and his head whipped around when he heard Anya's voice.

"Hi, Xander…"

¤

Buffy gathered up her clothes, which were scatter haphazardly about Spike's crypt, and began to slowly redress. She felt a lot less guilty about sex with Spike now that he had a soul. And the best part was, she didn't have to worry about him losing it afterwards and going on a crazy killing spree for revenge on her.

Spike grinned at her slightly from the bed, causing her to turn around and look at him.

"What?" she asked.

"You're cute when you're trying to be modest," he noted, pointing to the sheet she had unnecessarily wrapped around herself.

¤

Angel and Faith disembarked the bus and walked down the sidewalk, Faith holding onto Angel's arm.

"Welcome to the Hellmouth," Angel said.

¤

_I lost him. I've always loved him, but I was too blind to realize it. And now he's gone._

Willow jumped out of the rolling chair and darted out of the door, only to find that Oz was long gone. She cursed under her breath and ran back inside. Remembering that Giles had gotten a ride from Xander to Buffy's house a few days ago, she snatched up his keys from the desk and rushed back outside to the garage. She had thrown herself into the front seat, started the engine, and backed out into the street before it occurred to her that he hadn't the slightest idea where Oz would be.

_Think, Willow… Come on, come on, where is he! _

She sped off down the street, letting her subconscious guide her where it may. Part of her that had always had this deep connection to Oz, and she was trusting it now to lead her to him.

Willow found herself barreling down back streets, then main streets, and now down a long empty road. There were tall grasses and trees and crops filling the surrounding fields, and she continued driving until she reached a railroad track. The red light was blinking, and the barricades were down to indicate that there was a train coming. Somehow, she knew that Oz was on that train. She jumped out of the car, ducked under the barricade, and stepped into the middle of the track. She could see the train trundling down the track straight at her, but she remained standing tall and strong. She had promised herself that she would never use magic again, but she saw this sort of emergency fit to warrant for her to use her powers just once more. With all the strength she possessed, she held her hand out in front of her and attempted to stop the speeding train.

She could tell it had worked, because the train began slowing down, but its momentum caused it to keep going. It kept rolling, its speed decreasing with every foot, but it was still going strong. An unearthly screech filled the air as the wheels scraped against the metal tracks, sparks flying everywhere. Willow pushed herself harder, conjuring up more power than she had ever thought she contained. She brought together every little bit of might to focus on this one thing, her head aching with concentration. Finally, the train coasted to a stop no more than ten feet ahead of her.

She exhaled deeply, releasing the tension in her muscles and allowing her mind to function properly again. She had to find Oz. She took off running again, down the length of the train, until she reached the car that most certainly must contain Oz. Wrenching the door open, she bounded up the steps and into the car. Those of the people who weren't slumped against windows or armrests while sleeping looked up at her in surprise. Paying them no heed, her eyes connected with Oz, who was easily the most shocked out of all of them.

"Willow!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He left his seat and met Willow halfway down the aisle. "What are you- how did you- did you-?"

She shushed him. "I stopped the train."

Oz glanced around and lowered his voice before posing his next question. "You're not using magic again, are you?" he inquired, looking concerned.

"I think… I think I can control it now… but that's not the important part…" Willow took a step closer to him. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I only did it because I didn't want you to leave me again without knowing that I'm still in love with you."

His eyes widened, not out of shock but out of deep, euphoric relief. He put a hand on her hair and told her, "I never stopped loving you."

And then they kissed. This time, it was a mutual kiss, and both of them new this was exactly how it was meant to be. They held onto each other as if both feared that the other could be taken away from them at any given moment. The kiss lasted much longer than any kiss they had had before, and was by far the most meaningful. When they finally pulled away, they continued to cling to each other for dear life. Finally, after a long and deep silence, Oz took Willow's hand and, together, the walked out of the train, leaving the car full of shocked and confused passengers behind them.

¤

"Anya! What are you doing here?" Xander called out in shock, leaping from the sofa.

"Well, I thought about what you told me when we were at Giles' house, about us not being able to be together since I'm a vengeance demon," Anya informed him, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"…and?" Xander asked fearfully, waiting for her to disembowel him or something of the sort.

"And, I've decided that I like being with you more than castrating unfaithful men. So I gave up my powers."

"You- you gave up your powers? To be with _me_?"

"Yep."

¤

Buffy walked back into her house, looking content. She entered the kitchen silently and saw Dawn and Giles standing at the counter. Dawn was painting her nails with hot pink polish and reading aloud from a teen magazine. Giles was looking slightly disturbed. Buffy laughed, and they both looked up at her. Giles had an expression of undying gratitude as he began to speak.

"Ah, you're back!" he said, going over to her. "Have you heard anything from Willow and Oz? They've been gone for quite some time."

"Nope," Buffy replied, shrugging out of her jacket and setting it down on the counter. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Buffy looked curious, seeing as hardly anyone who would be visiting her would bother to knock. She opened the door and gaped at who it was.

"A-Angel? Faith?"

Angel and Faith stepped inside, and the sky abruptly went from day to night. Giles looked at them with suspicion.

"Hey, all," Faith greeted casually. Before anyone could respond, Willow and Oz walked through the other door hand in hand.

"Boy, have we got news!" Willow said cheerily, smiling at Oz. They walked through the doorway to the kitchen and stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of Angel and Faith. "Okay, so maybe it's not such big news anymore…"

¤

**A/N:** I do love reviews! More reviews faster updating. So, yes, please do review! Make an author happy!


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